You'll Always Have My Heart
by EternalShadow54
Summary: The betrayal and deciet of a loved one has dire consequences. Love is the way to heal all wounds, yet can cause the deepest.


_**WARNING! FOR THE LOVE OF CELESTIA, IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE GORE OR SIMPLY DO NOT LIKE GRIMDARK STORIES, DO NOT READ! Contents may leave you disturbed or scared, or it may not. It's your choice to read, not mine.**_

_**FINAL WARNING!**_

**You'll Always Have My Heart...**  
_By: EternalShadow54_

A dark, demonic aura lingered throughout the room, the stench of death lofting into the nostrils of the unconscious stallion, causing a stir from within the vauge territory lurking just outside the bulbs reach. The stallion awoke due to the foul, wicked odor, unable to blink his eyes to the vexatious aroma that stung with great irritation and agony, for his eyelids had been removed from the sockets. The stink nearly caused an instant gag reflex, unable to breath from the mouth on account of the washcloth soaked with gasoline that obstructed his air passage.

The bindings around his hooves made great contribution to the frantic stallion's irrational thoughts as he struggled and strained to break free, the effort in vain. The bulb above grew dim as the darkness warped around the mysterious mare to his side, much like the fires of all hell and oblivion would to the devil himself. The gloom and darkness around her seemed to pause as she opened her mouth to speak to the terrified stallion.

"You gave me your promise to never leave me, abandon me, hurt me. You gave me your heart, and I gave you mine."

The stallion's eyes stretched to their limit, nearly bloodshot from the inability to blink as the mare continued.

"I gave you my heart with the belief that you would treat it right. Treat it with respect. Treat it... with love..."

The mare felt a small drop of salty liquid roll from her cheek, her cold stare swimming deeply into the stallion's eyes whilst she composed herself to find the right words to say to express the sorrow and pain she felt.

"You took my heart, my very being, and cut it. Cut it deeper than any doctor or magic could ever hope to repair. You took my very essence, and crushed it. Smashed it into the cold, unforgiving ground. You hurt me in ways that I can't even begin to describe..."

An expression of ghastly animosity formed upon her face as she gazed deeper into the stallion's eyes, tearing into his soul, and chilling him to the bone.

"And now..."

A ominous lull befell the room as the mare calmly tred back into the shadows, becoming completely shrouded by the dark once more. Upon her return, she carried with her a bulky, crimson red tool chest containing within a broad array of various tools and instruments.

"You shall know my pain..."

The first tool of torture to be revealed was an old, rusty vice grip. The stallion tried to scream, the gasoline gushing from the cloth as his jaw contracted, squeezing the rag. The liquid flowed down his throat like a river, the fumes burning at his insides as he quickly calmed back down, choking on the toxin now inside of him while his muzzle flamed with misery.

No sign of feeling could be derived from the mare's face, her eyes void of all emotion while she placed the oversized pliers at the joint of hoof and ankle in a vertical position.

"Before I show you the agony you have caused me, just know that this will hurt me... more than it will hurt you..."

An enveloped scream could be just almost be apprehended behind the loud crack of the stallion's ankle as the mare pulled the grips upward, shattering the connection of the limbs marrow in one swift jerk. Tears leaked from the stallion, forced to bear witness to the vile act that was inflicted upon his body as he swallowed another mouth full of the stinging liquid that plauged him so.

"Know the crippling pain I feel, the pure anguish I felt when you betrayed me."

The mare removed the grips from the stallion's fragmented ligament, and placed the tool back to the containment from which it came, pulling out a tiny jar, packed with soft dirt, from her box of torment.

"The fiery affliction you cast upon my heart."

Without haste, the mare carefully unscrewed the cap of the container, and poured the contents out upon the stallion's other hoof. A sharp, searing pain ravaged his "good leg" as a colony of fire ants swiftfully spread about his appendage, tearing into his flesh and injecting him with their poisons. Each bite caused him to spasm, driving the ants into a faster, more furious frenzy with every passing moment.

The mare simply watched her former love suffer, feeling no remorse or regret for the acts against all things holy she was performing. After hearing a few more muffled shrieks of agony, she disappears back into the shadows, leaving the stallion to wallow in complete distress and sorrow.

A few moments pass before she appears again, holding a broom in her hooves. The prickling torment of the straws scraping the boils on his leg only made him bite harder into the cloth as the last drops of gasoline dripped into his throat, causing a strange sense of relief to fall upon him. The mare scraped the last of her tiny creatures back into their home, and untied the rag from around his mouth. The sudden gust of fresh, crisp air hitting his lungs almost made the pain bearable as he moved his lips to speak.

Nothing. He moved his lips, but all that came was soft, warm breaths with no sound. The gas and fumes had damaged his vocals, rendering him mute, and unable to make even the slightest whimper. The mare set her jar of fire ants back into her crimson box, and from within, pulled out a dull potato peeler.

"Know the peeling sorrow of my heart, the layers of happiness shed from your deception."

His silent cries of agony tore at his lungs as she took the peeler within both hoofs, placed it upon his hips, just above where the boils had ended, and ripped downward into his thigh, fledging, popping, and bursting every boil that was within reach. Again and again she ripped, tearing off flesh and blood as she intentionally gushed every boil she could find.

There was momentary pause as the mare set her tool back into the box, leaving the stallion's leg stripped of all flesh, exposed of muscle, and with few showings of bone, while she reached deep within, and pulled out a jagged hacksaw.

"Feel the cuts of hy heart, every one deeper than the rest, and all the more painful."

His lungs shriveled and ached as the mare skillfully took her saw, placed it vertical to the center of his front hoof, and forced forward, splitting his right hoof in two. She pulled back, severing an artery, and then pushed forward again, scrapping bone. Back and forth, back and forth the mare went with sluggish pace as the stallion jerked his head in every direction, his body convulsing with every skin ripped push, and blood shedding pull.

She cautiously worked her way upward until she reached where the shoulder connected, and withdrew her blade, leaving the stallions front leg split completely in half as she reached for her next instrument of choice. A long metal wire.

"Know the pain of my wrenched heart, twisted and pulled in every direction."

No amount of tears could help the stallion cope with the anguish as she pointed the wire's tip, and drove it into his other shoulder, forcing the wire through thick muscle as it pierced through his insides, wrapping it around his ribs with expert precision, and finally pushing it through his back, knotting the end as it came through. As she did the same with her end, the stallion was regaining his voice, choking out a pitched, annoying wheez with his gulps of air. The huffs of squeeky heaves was shortly silenced by another cloth, this time drenched with vinegar, stuffed down his esophagus as she spoke.

"Taste the bitterness your treason has made my heart feel."

The cloth did little help to endure, gagging and choking him, as she grasped the wires end, yanking with all her might, and tearing through the skin and tissue whilst breaking three of his ribs, causing three jagged joints to poke from under his coat. How he wanted to die, wanted his misery to end, wanted this horrible pain to just go away, but he couldn't close his eyes, couldn't try to shut them tightly and say it was all a nightmare. The force from her pull had almost severed his spine, almost ended his agony, almost ended his lesson... in love.

There was a rooster crow in the distance as daytime shined through a window, brightening the room to show its full decor. The room was an empty void, a shell of a room that once was elegant with masterful paintings, and furniture if great luxury. The stallion had recongnized this room, the living room of her house. The mare gravely stared into his eyes as he scanned the room with perplextion.

"This is my heart, the empty void you created with your slanders, and I'm going to make sure you never tell another pony a lie ever again."

Rumaging through her box of horror for a few moments, she finally comes across a hammer and chisel. As the stallion took the hint and bit his lips together while she untied the rag, a sharp pain struck under his chin. She rammed the chisel with pin point accuracy into his lower jaw, causing him to open his mouth in pain as she brings the hammer above head, and smashes the blunt object into his teeth, making sure to destroy every tooth as she jerked her weapon around his bleeding mouth. The ghostly expression upon the stallions face would almost leave you believing that he was already dead. Almost.

The mare removed the hammer from his mouth as he coughed out blood and teeth shards, most of which was forced down his throat from the initial bash. She reached back into her crimson box, reaching for the perfect item of torture, from which she pulled a small surgical knife.

"Know what it's like to be blinded by love, to have your sight taken when you need it most."

He could only sit in terror as she drew the blade to his iris, scrapping the very thin layer of skin with the point of her knife. No time had he wished for death more through this torment, then when she horizontally slit the very tips of his eyes, blinding him and sending his body into another episode of convulsions and spasms. Only two more lessons were to be learned. The mare looked into his gushing eyes and spoke.

"You will know the clawing away that my heart felt, the pain of a monster digging into your very being from pure agony."

Coming back into the room after leaving the helpless, mutilated stallion, who was unfortunately still alive, to fester in silent loneliness for a while, she carried with her a small metal bucket, and a cage with a softball sized field rat. There can't be words to describe the horrendous paroxysm he withstood while the mare placed the field rat in the metal bucket, and flipped it upside down upon his stomach, sending the rat into a scurry as she held a small flame over the top of the bucket, causing the rat to claw, scratch, and eventually burrow within his gut, ripping at his stomach and intestines with shear force as it tried to escpae the flame.

The stallion was on the very verge of death; having endured such trama was unheard of. The mare pulled the knife, and softly cooed.

"You will now know the final pain, the worst of them all."

The mare twirled the knife into a downward angle, and carved a large X where his heart would be. After penetrating the skin barrier and severing most of the muscle tissue, the mare finished carving, taking her own two hooves, and pulling apart the outside layer, revealing a slow, weakened heart. The mare drew her blade above her head, and struck the heart with a vengeful blow, finally granting mercy to this tortured soul.

The mare seperated the heart from its vital arteries, and encased it in a special jar she had made just for him. She walked into her kitchen, hearing young fillies playing on a playground at the school right outside her house, and placed her jar in the freezer, setting an old, half ripped highschool love note on top, reading as followed:

'Baby, You'll Always Have My Heart, from now until the end of my days.  
Sincerely, your secret admirer.'

Wallowing in her memories was something that was just simply too hard to take, leaving only an old, half ripped note on the table in front of where she hung above a tilted chair, reading as followed:

'And you will be in my thoughts, until from this life I phaze...'


End file.
